


Someone to love me for REAL

by richardnoelchris



Category: Set the Thames on Fire (2015)
Genre: Blood, Depression, Drug Use, Falling In Love, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Other, Prostitution, Sexual Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:33:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23416780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/richardnoelchris/pseuds/richardnoelchris
Summary: I wrote this because I saw a lot of Dickie content on my tumblr dash and my heart aches for him, so I wanted to try something new, something quite dark and I wanted to explore the theme of someone actually loving Dickie as well as exploring his working days.I wanted an AU where he doesn't die and he finds love with a Julian Barratt character of course haha, also in my version he doesn't meet Art and Sal. I'm always going to adore you Dickie may you be happy with your Julian character hehe
Relationships: Dickie (Set the Thames on Fire)/The Impresario (Set the Thames on Fire)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	Someone to love me for REAL

**Author's Note:**

> The reason I used songs by 'The Pretty Reckless' is because eveytime I listen to them I think about Dickie, the songs are just so fitting to me.
> 
> Enjoy reading I know it's a bit dark but this character is tragic and I wanted to try a different style x

**ONE**

Dickie's alarm went off and he slammed the button to make it shut up "fuck off!" He had a long day ahead of him, being a prostitute and the only one in London at this present time, he had a lot to do, as well as a lot of people that wanted him to do them or vice versa. 

He rubbed his face, trying to get the sleep out of his eyes and yawned. He sat on the edge of his bed, which was situated in his den, because the Impresario said it was easier to live in the same room where his "work" took place. 

Dickie had a horrible night's sleep, for a start he hardly ever went to bed happy, having cried himself to sleep for the past couple of nights, contemplating if life was even worth living, praying sometimes he wouldn't wake up, because truthfully he hated being a prostitute, he hated the fact that there was no love in a job like this, no conversation apart from the exchange of moans during sex, he wanted more in life.

He got up slowly from bed, he'd slept completely naked after having a shower before bed last night and "working" for hours, satisfying different clients, as well as the Impresario while off his head on drugs. He said the drugs were a coping mechanism to him, a way to cope with this tough job, with pretending to enjoy these favours. He had scars on his back and across his shoulders from where the Impresario dug his nails into him while he was ranting about someone while "making love" to Dickie (if you could even call it that), that was completely consensual. In reality it was taking your anger out on someone while getting yourself off.

He put on  _ 'Miss Nothing' _ by The Pretty Reckless to escape reality for a few and then he put on a pair of black, french knickers and sat at his mirror, staring at the scars on his body, tracing the scabs with his fingers where the blood had dried, he stared at his eyes where the residue of mascara and eyeliner were and looked at his signature crazy eyebrows and how they were smudged off. He tried to smile, but he couldn't muster one up, he was still sobering up from the cocaine he snorted last night off a client's abs before he blew them, but that wasn't why he couldn't smile. He wasn't happy at all.

He opened his make up bag and got some make up remover wipes, to erase the residue of last night.

_ "So I'll waste my time and I'll burn my mind on Miss Nothing, on Miss Everything." _

Then he tied his blonde hair in a messy bun and applied fresh makeup, he drew his eyebrows back on, put some mascara on, some eyeliner and some red lipstick. 

Then he went to his pastel pink wardrobe to put on his silky,light blue, baby doll dress, which had seen better days, in a way it was a representation of Dickie, tired and worn out. He held it up to the mirror and did a smile "you'll look pretty in this one Dickie" he put in on, then he grabbed his fishnet tights, which were full of holes and his black heels.

Then he looked in his full length wardrobe mirror, took his hair down and shook it out, then tied it in two ponytails, looked down at his black, chipped nail varnish nails, put his rubber gloves on, looked back at his reflection and said "party time Dickie" 

**TWO**

**Monday**

Dickie's work day began, loud rock music, clients, enjoying sex, getting paid, doing drugs, having dinner, going to sleep.

**Tuesday**

Dickie's work day began, loud rock music, clients, enjoying sex, getting paid, buying more drugs with the money, having dinner, going to sleep.

**Wednesday**

Dickie's work day began, loud rock music, almost too much for him to bear, more clients, faking orgasms while they were doing him, getting paid, running out of drugs, skipping dinner, going straight to bed.

**Thursday**

Dickie's work day began, loud rock music that just sounded like ringing in his ears now, more and more clients, faking orgasms while they were doing him, fake dirty talk to the clients, getting paid, running out of drugs, buying more, doing more, skipping dinner again, taking off his gloves, collapsing on his bed, crying and shaking, staring at the ceiling.

**Friday**

No clients.  _ Thank God _ Dickie thought, he actually couldn't bear it anymore, it was too much to do this day in, day out, he needed a rest.

He heard a knock at the door and quickly adjusted himself, tried to pull up the sleeves of his silky, blue, baby doll dress, which he fell asleep in last night, but they were so worn out and stretched they just sort of hung down, he looked like a broken doll. He wiped his tears and sniffed "come in" it was the Impresario, which Dickie thought he was happy about, because at least he actually cared about him, Dickie was delusional when it came to him, he was under his spell.

He ran to him and started stroking his chest "what um *clears throat* what can I do for you sir? 69?, hj?, bj?, maybe a bumming from me, or, from you?" He reached down and underneath the waistband of his trousers, but The Impresario quickly grabbed Dickie's wrist and swiped his hand away and Dickie stood back looking confused, did he actually just want to talk for once? He quickly apologised "sorry sir, force of habit." He sniffed.

"Dickie, there's a party tonight in the hall and I want you there, so I can introduce you to some new clients."

"Right, what should I wear, is it a classy event, or a sexy event?" 

"I've picked out a dress for you" he held it up, it was a lacey, red, off shoulder sleeveless, skater dress. 

"Oh! That's gorgeous, you spoil me sir, you really do." Dickie hugged the dress like it was a wounded animal in his arms. "I'll be wearing it don't worry. What time is the party?"

"9pm sharp, don't be late Dickie" he grabbed Dickie's face, threateningly "or there will be consequences." 

Shakily Dickie replied "I'll be there" 

He left and let Dickie enjoy his Friday off. He couldn't help thinking to himself that this wasn't love, the Impresario doesn't love him, he's just a play thing, just a piece of meat to him.

"I'm kidding myself, I thought he loved me once, but" feeling tears start to form "I was fucking wrong! Ow! Shit!" 

He smashed the mirror as he said this and instead of tending to the wounds on his knuckles, he just watched the blood ooze and trickle down the back of his hand and his arms, like it was a performance, at least he was feeling something, he thought he'd gone numb.

Eventually he snapped out of it and grabbed a pink towel and wiped the blood, then he hung the dress for tonight on the outside of the wardrobe, put the album 'Light Me Up' by The Pretty Reckless in his pastel purple CD player, with rainbows on it, stripped off until he was completely naked and went over to his shower, which was covered in different coloured tiles on the walls and had a pink cord attatched to a pink shower head and next to the shower he had a pink wall with a painting of a kid's pony, surrounded by stars and butterflies. He climbed into the shower and he still had his makeup on, but he didn't care, he just wanted to be clean and wash away the week's events. 

_ "Somebody mixed my medicine" _

he sang along as the water ran, he stuck his face right underneath it, trying to drown his sorrows and pain, his makeup running down his face like a waterfall "Pretty Reckless, you just understand me." He washed his hair and his body, rinsed and then turned it off and stepped out, grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his waist and let his hair drip, the water was going into his eyes and then he remembered "shit, need a fucking towel for my fucking hair, Dickie you fuckin idiot!" He suddenly felt a bit nauseous so he ran to his pink toilet to throw up. He looked a mess, like a drunk Joker from a Batman movie.

_ "Well you hurt where you sleep and you sleep where you lie, now you're in deep and now you're gonna cry,  _

_ got a woman to your left and a boy to your right." _

He sang along to  _ 'My Medicine' _ while he prepared for the party, mentally and physically.

**THREE**

The hall was quite posh looking, there was a chandelier, a grand staircase, a piano in the corner and a massive dancefloor, Dickie felt quite out of place in a room like this, no in fact he felt VERY out of place.

"Fuckin hell the fuck am I doing here?" There were canopés and Prosseco and fruit punch. Lots of chit chat, music playing, women dressed in beautiful ballgowns and men in tuxedos and bowties. Dickie grabbed a glass of Prosseco, because he knew that alcohol was the only way to get through this nightmare of an evening. "Yes, fuckin please." 

He looked really beautiful wearing his hair in a messy bun, with a strand of hair hanging down on both sides of his face, with a red, heart shaped hair clip. His deep, red lipstick matched his high heeled shoes and dress, he looked stunning, but he didn't feel stunning. 

"Right everyone can I have your attention please. This lovely man stood next to me is Dickie, he's a prostitute, the only one in this town and he lives in a den a couple of streets away from this hall. If you like what you see, go and see Dickie tonight or some time during the week." 

For fuck's sake was he going to let Dickie speak for himself? "He doesn't work on Fridays or Sundays so choose your date wisely haha." God that was a slimey laugh. 

People were just staring at Dickie, hanging on to the Impresario's every word, Dickie felt like a doll in a shop window, or worse a piece of meat, the last one in the shop that everyone was fighting over. 

"Look around the room to whoever wants me" Dickie said to himself and he put on a fake smile and waited for people to approach him. Before long this "party" was turning into a nightmare, one where Dickie was the center of attention. Random people, potential clients asking him questions. 

"Why do you wear women's clothing?"

"Clothes have no fuckin gender dick!"

"Why don't you wear trousers?"

"Why did you wear that sweetheart, those heels are fuckin disgusting."

"Have you got a big dick?" It was clear most of these people were plastered.

"Bigger than yours mate, I mean" he held up his little finger and wiggled it to represent size "baby fuckin carrot!" This reply came out sassy, exactly the way he wanted it to and the man ran away. Dickie went to sip his drink "he ran like fuckin lightning." He downed it in one and then grabbed another off the tray "fuckin yes!" 

"Are you a woman then?"

"I'm a man called Dickie who enjoys wearing dresses, because they're fuckin comfortable. Fuck off!"

He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take, he just wanted to leave, to go back to his den and cry or do drugs or just go to sleep. The Impresario was giving out cards with Dickie's number on it. Folding his arms he said under his breath "I mean fuckin hell when the fuck did he become my pimp?" He rolled his eyes.

People were saying to Dickie "I'll call you" and "I'll see you soon" and others were completely turned off by his attitude, which the Impresario didn't like. He walked over to Dickie and grabbed him by the arm and said "you need to be nice, if we don't sell you, then we're broke."

**Sell?** That sounded horrendous and  **We?** When did  **we** discuss this? He was confused but replied "ok fine, more Prosseco would help sir." He fluttered his eyelashes and he got him another glass. Dickie really wanted to leave now, so he faked an illness "Fuck! My guts are….ouch! I think I'm gonna throw up. I need to go. I'm sorry everyone, sorry sir, won't be drinking that now. Bye." He left quickly

The Impresario shouted after him "I'm gonna hand out your card ok? So we can get you some new clients." As Dickie was walking away he said in a frustrated tone to himself "suck my fuckin dick mate!" 

The Impresario couldn't let the drink go to waste so he drank the glass of Prosseco himself, when a tall man, with dark hair and circular glasses suavely walked over to him. "Hi there, where um, where did you say Dickie lived?" He smiled and sipped his champagne and listened as The Impresario told him and handed him his card.

He raised his eyebrow and looked at the card "thank you." 

**FOUR**

Dickie was singing along to 'You Don't Own Me' by Lesley Gore relating the lyrics to the Impresario and simultaneously taking off his red dress, looking into his broken mirror through his hair due to the fact he took his hair down from the messy bun it was in and shook it out so it was in his eyes.

_ "You don't own me, I'm not just one of your many toys, you don't own me, don't say I can't go with other boys."  _

Now swinging his dress around and screaming

_ "don't tell me what to do, don't tell me what to say and please, when I go out with you don't put me on display cause…."  _

he stared at himself in the broken mirror while the rest of the song played, just Lesley singing now, he started to put on his light pink, baby doll dress ready to sleep in, kicked off his red heels, slowly walked towards himself in the wardrobe mirror and lightly ran his fingers along the cracks miming the rest like he was in a video, then there was a knock on the door and he turned around confused and worried it might be him!

He opened the door slowly and saw a tall man with a stubble beard, a moustache and short, black, curly hair. He wore circular glasses and was dressed in a black suit, bowtie, and black shoes, he was very suave. "Hi um, Dickie yeah?" He smiled

Dickie moved his hair out of his face "yeah, who are you?" Looking behind the man, paranoid "Is he with you? Did  _ he _ ....send you?" 

"I assume you mean the Impresario and no, no I actually asked for you specifically."

"Right ok, well look I'm not working right now, was about to go to bed actually so gonna have to ask you to kindly fuck off." He started to shut the door on the tall, beautiful man, but he quickly said

"I just wanna talk and get to know you a bit." Dickie opened the door slowly, looking down so his hair was in his view again

"You….you want to what?"

"Just wanna get to know you. I uh I bought you some Chinese." He smiled and held up the bag. "Didn't know if you'd eaten or anything at the party."

"You were at the party?" 

"Yep" 

Dickie let him in, because for once someone just wanted to chill out and talk with him, get to know him. Taking the bag he said "thanks for this, I'll heat it up tommorow, not hungry."

"It's a chicken chow mein."

"My favourite! Sorry about all the fuckin mess, I leave my shit everywhere, because well no one fuckin comes in to talk do they haha." He said sarcastically and with a sadness. 

Taking off his coat, he looked around and said "I love the theme in here, very um?"

"Prozzy?"

"Pink ha."

"Oh yeah it's my favourite colour so, you know, why the fuck not ey?" He looked at him "look I'll umm try and clear some space."

"Thanks Dickie"

Dickie felt very comfortable with this man, it was like he was an angel in Dickie's dark life. "Do you wanna sit down? I'll get you a chair." 

"Thank you" 

"No problem. I um didn't quite catch your name."

"Oh where are my manners? ha it's um it's Bunny."

"Bunny?"

"Yeah."

"Is that like a nickname or something?"

"Yeah long story short. My real name is Francis but I had a girlfriend who used to call me Bunny because I shag like a rabbit haha and it just sort of stuck with me and I used it for my prostitute name. I'm not one anymore but I prefer Bunny to Francis."

"Wow! I like it. Sorry she's your ex now."

"Ah don't be, caught her in bed with my sister."

"Shit!" 

"Yep. I don't talk to either of them anymore ha." 

"What a cunt!"

"Yeah both of them really."

There was silence for a while, but only a couple of seconds, because Dickie wanted to open up to Bunny and tell him everything. "Bunny, can I tell you something….or some things?"

"Shoot" he did finger guns and smiled. He had a gorgeous smile, it really lit up the room.

Dickie took a deep breath and started to tell him everything that's going on in his life "ok so, I'm a fuckin prozzy, the only one in this town, sometimes that's a lot of fun, other times it's really fuckin not. I…before I carry on, why me?" 

"I saw you at the party tonight, I didn't appreciate the way the Impresario was talking about you and putting you on display and truthfully I sensed a sadness in you." That last bit broke Dickie and he started to cry, he put his head down and looked at the floor. Bunny noticed and moved towards him in a comforting way.

"I thought he loved me once…" he sniffed "the fuckin prick!" Now he was really spilling everything

"Do you know once, I didn't make any money during a day's worth of sex and he found out and came in here fucking charging, didn't even knock and he threw me against the wall, which left a fuckin bruise on my shoulder and he threw that chair at me and let me off with a warning." 

He was crying even more now. "I was so fuckin scared. I didn't know he could get that angry. I felt so small." He was practically in tears now, so much the words didn't sound coherent. He carried on monologuing and walked over to the makeup mirror, the one that was still in tact.

"I swear to God I don't remember the last time I was happy, like truly happy, I'm a mess, I don't even enjoy this anymore, I hate HIS fuckin guts!" He broke down "I wish….I wish I'd never been born." He sunk down until he was sat on the chair at the makeup mirror and put his head down at the desk, with his arms folded and shaking with sadness.

Bunny walked towards him and rubbed his back and that felt really comforting to Dickie. "Hey now. It's alright. Let it out, it's good to cry, I do it a lot, all normal people do it." He lifted up Dickie's head and bought it into his chest to comfort him, he was shaking and Bunny's shirt was soaked in a matter of seconds. 

"I'm sorry I'm ruining your lovely shirt."

"Hey don't worry about it, I've got lots ha. Here I'll get you a tissue, aw bless you."

He went to the bathroom to get Dickie some tissue for his tears and he wiped them for him, carefully going under his eyes, and across his cheeks. Then there was a moment where they caught each other's eyes, Dickie's a sparkly blue, he thought there was magic in those eyes and Bunny's a beautiful, smoky, brown.

Dickie tilted his head upwards, due to him being shorter and Bunny tilted his head downwards and their lips met. Bunny's hands were in Dickie's hair, enjoying the softness of it, it felt like silk, spun by angels. Dickie's red, nail varnished fingers were playing with the curls at the back of Bunny's neck. This kiss was special for Dickie, because he'd had kisses before with clients and stuff but this one meant something, there was definitely a spark between them and this kiss took away all of Dickie's sadness. 

When they pulled away they just stared at each other breathless, lipstick all over Bunny's mouth. He giggled "sorry about that" he wiped it away for him with his hand.

Bunny adjusted his glasses "No worries. I….I have to um get going I think but-" 

Dickie grabbed him by the shirt softly, looked him in the eyes and said "stay, please, stay the night with me."

"I wish I could but I have work in the morning, I work in the pie shop across from the pub. Early start haha." 

Dickie smiled, genuinely smiled, he felt butterflies in his stomach, he was happy. "That's a shame but I understand. Then he quickly remembered "Do me a favour when you leave. Say that we had sex, because the fuckin Impressario will be furious with me, if he finds out we just talked."

"Ok I'll give you some money too, make it look real. What do you normally charge for umm a bj?" 

"Usually like 30 quid" 

While he was looking in his wallet, he said "look, um to avoid you becoming a human punching bag, everytime I visit you, I could give you some money to um make it realistic." He found the money and gave it to Dickie. "Ok here you go, 30 quid" he kissed Dickie on the cheek "bye." Then when he got to the door he said

"I hope I see you again Bunny, I enjoy the conversation"

"Don't worry I'll be a regular" he winked and left

Dickie smiled and laid down on his bed cradling his teddy bear and thinking to himself 

"Someone fuckin loves me for real"

He went to sleep with a smile on his face thinking about Bunny. For once he had something to look forward to.


End file.
